Under My Finger
by JamesPhelpsIsSoHot
Summary: "You're still firmly under my finger, aren't you?" "Oh, I doubt it's that way around Angel. It never has been." - Written for Gurl5678. Merry Christmas, in other terms!


**This is a George/Angelina one-shot for Gurl5678. MERRY CHRISTMAS! **

**I hope you like it. XD**

Under My Finger 

"You know, I've heard that there are four types of love." Angelina said, placing down her champagne.

George normally would have rolled his eyes, or made a stupid comment, but Fred was away for the week, and he was completely alone with his girlfriend in the flat for once.

"We're the on-again, off-again type, I guess." He grinned, setting his champagne down as well. "The mad kind. The best kind."

Angelina smiled too, and brushed her hair off her face as George walked up to her, and held her in his arms. "I guess." She murmured. "I do have some news to give to you though George."

"You've made the full team, haven't you?" George's grin got even wider as Angelina nodded. "Well, I guessed when you came into the shop yelling at the top of your lungs. I think Fred had a conniption. I did, at the very least."

"What will it take to surprise you?" She sighed, running her fingers up his chest. "If Fred ran in here, clutching a bomb and telling you that he was going to go and destroy the Ministry, would _that _work?"

George shook his head. "We've been planning the demise of the Ministry for years Angie." He admitted, smirking deviously. "Even with Scrimgeour as head, there are some real bloody idiots in there."

"Exempting your father, of course." Angelina smiled, dropping her hand down and kissing his jaw lightly. "Come on then. When's Fred back?"

"Dunno." George looked around, throwing a jumper over the back of an armchair and shaking his head to himself. "Absolutely no idea… Why?"

"Didn't want us to get interrupted." Angelina murmured, smirking when George swallowed. "I might have been away for a few weeks, but you're still firmly under my finger, aren't you?"

As one, George and Angelina flopped down into the nearest armchair; Angelina perched on top of George, champagne in one hand and a smirk on her face as she shifted purposely. "Oh, I doubt it's that way around Angel." George grinned up at her, tapping her shoulder slightly before flicking her nose. "It never has been."

_"Oi, Angelina!" George yelled, running along the corridor to catch up with the Quidditch captain. "Oi, slow down! Angelina – hey!" _

_ Finally, Angelina did what George was hoping that she'd do, and looked around for the source of the yelling, her eyes lighting up for a spilt second – a split second that George recognised – and then her face assembling into the semblance of a perfect scowl. _

_ "What do you want?" She asked, biting back a slightly snappier retort. "I'm not in the mood right now George, I have four members of the Quidditch team and, frankly, it looks like we're going to fail."_

_ George rolled his eyes (this is all she could think to complain about? Really? It had been months. _MONTHS!_) and then shrugged, seeing Angelina's glare. "Just wanted to ask you something Ange." He smirked, waggling his eyebrows._

_ "What?" Angelina, to put it lightly, did not seem or sound impressed with this. "George – I don't care what you have to ask me. Just… Get it over with, okay?"_

_ Now this is what George had been waiting for. He smiled, leaned against the wall in a way that he hoped was flirtatious (Fred had been more gifted with anything of that sort), and waited for Angelina to stop looking agitated. _

_ She was beautiful. George hadn't said that explicitly to Fred and Lee (it had been more a case of '_Angelina's so hot!'_), but she was. He wagered that she had a flat stomach under that tight top as well, and her long legs seemed even longer under her skirt. And seeing her on a broom… Woah. Not to say that he wasn't anything but a connoisseur of the opposite sex, but he barely knew where his words began and ended with Angelina Johnson._

_ "What are you looking at?"_

_ If George were a naturally embarrassed guy, he would have blushed. But he wasn't, and he just raised an eyebrow. "Looking good Johnson." He said benignly. "Want to come to Hogsmede with me?"_

_ It didn't actually sound like 'Hogsmede' when he said it, it came out more like 'Hoggmsbs' or something similar. But Angelina seemed to have gotten his drift, and her mouth dropped clean open._

_ Then his fingers burned through the thin fabric of her tight top, he felt warm breath on his face, and then he was kissing her. Well, she was kissing her. But he was kissing _back_. Details didn't matter. Because _he, George Weasley, _was snogging _Angelina bloody Johnson _in the middle of the fifth floor corridor. And she tasted heavenly._

_ Angelina pulled away after her breath ran short, and George tried to say something. "Shut up." She murmured, and then her arms were back around his neck, and her lips were on his once more._


End file.
